


An Australian Christmas

by Lilsi



Category: The Bill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:14:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsi/pseuds/Lilsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!</p><p>Story written by - Jen</p>
    </blockquote>





	An Australian Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was once posted at Craiggilmore.co.uk a fan site no longer active, so to preserve this story and others, I am importing them to AO3. I did not want the loss of such a large amount of amazing and wonderful fanfiction, it would be such a waste to fans of Craig Gilmore and Luke Ashton to not have the opportunity to enjoy these stories as i have. Since the site is no longer active i have been unable to contact the creators but if you happen to be them under a new pen name and want the fiction to be removed please send me a note!
> 
> Story written by - Jen

Luke let himself out of the house quietly and stood for a moment looking around him at the misty silver Christmas dawn, thinking how very lucky they’d been to find this lovely little home in the hills high above the Coast.  The dogs, realising he was there, bounded up joyfully so he quickly signalled them to be quiet and walked over to the rain gauge.  Good, he thought, 22 mls overnight, nearly an inch.  Great for the dams.  He recorded this statistic in his brain for later transfer to the rainfall chart.

 

He padded in his runners along the dirt track that led to the gravel road, stood for a minute at the cattle grid to inhale the lemony fragrance of the wet Backhousia trees and then turned right up the hill for his morning run.  The dogs raced ahead of him, zigzagging as fresh scents drew their attention at almost every leap.  He allowed them a few moments of craziness then called them back to settle and run alongside him. 

 

As he ran gentle rain pattered against his face and the breeze cooled his body, still warm from sleep.  He breathed deeply, at this stage more to enjoy the moist perfumes of the trees and sweet grass mingled with the familiar odour of damp cattle and their dung, than to oxygenate his body.  Just a couple of months ago the paddocks had been brown and cracked, the dams almost dry and scummy.  Now the pastures were filled with sweet bright green grass and the dams glimmered full under the soft grey sky.  How lucky we are that the rains came early, Luke thought, looking around as he ran through the soft damp morning. 

 

The cattle were scattered over the hillsides and some looked curiously at him as he passed.  Most stood still in the lush grass, masticating placidly, with tufts hanging from their slowly grinding jaws while others watched with trepidation as he approached then whirled about and leapt away for a few steps before halting and turning again to track this strange group of beings that passed before their eyes almost every morning.

 

Luke laughed and called them wimps as he greeting some of his favourites.

 

“’Morning, Freckles.  Where’s your calf this morning?  Oh, there she is by the dam.”  The freckle-faced cow looked towards her calf as though she understood Luke’s words. 

 

“G’day, Phantom! Had a good night?”  He stopped for a moment to admire a magnificent grey Brahman bull with a huge jet-black hump.  Luke loved this bull and looked for him every morning.

 

How lucky we are, he thought contentedly as he ran on, to live in this perfect place.  Translucent pearly wisps of mist rose from the clefts in the hills and over yonder a cascade of heavy white mist fell gracefully through a gap in the mountains to the floor of the valley that their home overlooked.

 

Luke loved these summer dawn runs, especially when the weather was damp as it was this morning.  He knew that the day would quickly become very hot and humid so he revelled in the cool air folding round his semi-naked body as he ran.

 

He watched the dogs ahead of him as they approached the first cattle grid on the road.  One leapt unhesitatingly over it, clearing it easily, while the other dithered and finally ducked under the barbed wire fence to join his brother.  Luke smiled when they turned as one to check that he was still behind them.  He laughed at their quizzical looks and wet red tongues flopping from grinning mouths.

 

“Go!” he told them and they bounded happily away again.

 

The road was very steep now and Luke started to labour a little, forcing himself to run harder, thankful that the rain had become a little heavier to cool him.  The second grid was coming up and both dogs, competing now, leapt it easily and raced away, knowing the end of the upward run was in sight.  They sat panting at the T of the road, tongues lolling, as Luke toiled up the last section and leaned against a gatepost to catch his breath.  His gaze encompassed the panorama before him.  This country road intersection was almost at the summit of one of the highest hills in the hinterland and he knew that on a clear morning he could see the Coast from south to north for almost a hundred kilometres.  How lucky we are, he thought again, how very lucky to have found this beautiful place. 

 

Luke looked along the mountain range to his left, towards the tiny town he had been seconded to from a larger Coastal police station.  Luke had requested the transfer once they had become familiar with the mountain community.  There was a problem, as in many country towns, with young people who thought they had too much empty time and too little to do.  Luke looked a lot younger than his twenty-six years, dressed like them, understood them and was able to mix with them and gain their confidence.  He loved working with the diverse community and was very successful with the kids.  Unbeknownst to him, the community had a contingency plan to try to keep him in the town should one of the larger stations try to poach him!

 

The town, and its beautiful surrounds, was home to many different types.  The original families had been dairy and beef cattle farmers, loggers and sawmillers.  Then, in the sixties and seventies, came the hippies to settle in small communes in the hills.  Now their children and grandchildren, by and large, continued the tradition and a large part of the population were artists, craftspeople and alternative lifestylers.  Then, in the eighties and nineties, came the people from the southern cities known, until they were drawn into the community, as Mexicans.  Luke found endless delight in talking to all of these very different personalities and had quickly become a town favourite.

 

Luke sighed happily, looking forward to his shift this Christmas afternoon, knowing that the hours would be filled with people dropping in for a chat, leaving some little thing for him; still-warm eggs, perhaps, or a bunch of garden-fresh vegetables or flowers.  A cake hot from the oven.  Maybe a little painting or a carved wooden figure.  He though contentedly of the Christmas gift a local leather-worker had made at Luke’s request for his lover.  The heavy tan leather document case glowed with the care lavished on it by its creator and Luke had asked that the name be stamped discreetly into the leather.  It was wrapped and sitting under the large pine branch they had decorated for the Christmas tree in their home.

 

How lucky we are to live among these happy, creative, _interesting_ people, he thought as he finished his stretching exercises and started on the homeward run.  Home to his lover, who had worked a late shift and was still sleeping peacefully in their bed as Luke left for his run.  Luke could see the roof of their house peeping through the trees as he ran carefully down the steep slippery road.   

 

Past the house of the local solicitor and his large happy family, many of whom were outside even at this early hour and excitedly playing with their Christmas presents.  They all stopped and waved at Luke and the dogs as they ran past. 

 

The farmer who owned Luke’s favourite bull was already on his tractor hard at work, too far away to see Luke and the dogs as they trotted homewards. 

 

The school teacher’s family had piled into the car and were just driving out of their gate, heading for the beach for an early morning frolic before the crowds came.  Luke laughed at the car disappearing down the road with a multitude of arms waving at him from every window. 

 

He heard a ‘yoo-hoo’, looked over to where the neighbour who ran a very elegant B&B was cutting roses for the breakfast trays of her pampered guests and waved to her.  How lucky we are to have such friendly, happy neighbours, Luke thought.

 

As he turned in at their gate, Luke paused again to breathe in the fragrance of the lemon-scented myrtles, then warning the dogs to be quiet, headed for the house.  The dogs flopped onto the wet grass near the door to cool their hot bodies and Luke noiselessly slid open the door and slipped into the downstairs bathroom to shower and shave.

 

He walked, naked and soft-footed, up the stairs to the bedroom and stood for a moment, looking at his lover who had just risen and was standing by the bed, naked and stretching, staring sleepily out of the huge window.

 

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart.” Luke said quietly.

 

The big man turned, smiling, towards his lover and opened his arms.  Luke went to him and nestled against the hairy chest that was still warm from sleep.

 

“Happy Christmas, my love.”  Craig said, and after a moment added, “I was just thinking how lucky we are to be here in this lovely place together.”

 

Luke nodded into the sleep-smelling crook of Craig’s neck, quite used, over the years, to their twinned thought processes.

 

“Here together.  How lucky we are!”

 

Happy Christmas everyone!

 

From Jen

 

©Jen 21/12/04


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